Or Something
by Ebaz
Summary: In which Jean is fond of peer pressure, alcohol is a curious friend, and Eren is probably a moose. —Eren/Mikasa


It wasn't his fault, really, because Sasha was the one who'd "discovered" it all from who knew where and Jean was the one who'd put the first cup in his hand and Hanji was the one who'd added more and—

Eren Jaeger was drunk.

Yep. Drunk. Probably not drunk enough to pass out (wasn't that what people did when they'd had too much? No one had ever really described it to him), but maybe drunk enough to stumble around a bit, steady himself on a nearby table, and continue in that manner. That's what he was trying to do at the moment, anyway, but there were a whole lot of people around him and he wasn't sure how they all seemed to be able to stay upright, especially Jean, who he'd seen down at least a cup or two more than him of whatever this was. He was afraid to ask Sasha, because a) he probably wouldn't know what it was and b) he wasn't sure if he could hold a conversation with actual words in it because he had a feeling those would make his head hurt.

"Eren!"

It took him at least two extra seconds to turn his head around and search for the source of the voice. He spotted Mikasa two tables away and groaned—she was definitely going to tell him off for this. He could feel it. He could also feel someone's hand on his ass, but that could have also been the garbage can behind him. He didn't really care either way, because swinging his head behind him to check would probably end badly.

He began the laborious task of clambering his way over to Mikasa, head hanging like a puppy that had just peed on the floor and was trying to make up for it with cuteness. As far as Eren knew, he hadn't peed on the floor, but there was always the chance that Mikasa would take pity on his drunken self and not chide him. Or something. He wasn't really sure what he was talking about at this point, or if he was actually talking, because he was pretty sure he hadn't opened his mouth except to drain the last few drops from his cup.

"'Ey, Mikasa," he said, grinning and sliding into the seat next to her with the grace of a—well—something not graceful. Probably a moose. He'd never seen one, but he was pretty sure they weren't graceful. "Are you gonna yell at me?"

But she didn't seem to have heard the last part, because she was too busy giggling and ducking her face and _was that a blush he saw_?

"You're just as drunk as me," he slurred accusingly, pointing a finger at her empty cup. "How did _that_ happen?"

"I dunnoooo," she drawled, shrugging. He noticed a bit of her hair that had found its way across her nose, which was far from its home on the left side of her head. He considered pushing it away. Was that a thing people did?

He did it anyway, and sloppily, because his fingers weren't too sure where to go and he might've ended up poking her in the eye. She didn't seem to notice, which was good, although Eren had to wonder at what point of inebriation did one not realize that something was irritating their eye and poked himself in the eye to test it out, which was a bad idea because he definitely did notice it and it definitely did hurt.

She was still blushing, which was probably from the alcohol, but she also wasn't looking away from him—was she even blinking?—which might have been creepy if his sense of boundaries hadn't up and left with his first drink.

He kind of knew Mikasa had a crush on him, anyways; according to Jean, it was "painfully obvious," although Eren was not really feeling the painful part of it. If anything, she saved him from pain.

But that wasn't something he wanted to think about at the moment, not when this painful obviousness was feeling rather nice. Really nice, in fact. So nice that he felt the need to lean forward and cup her cheek and—

* * *

"If you wanted to kiss me, you should have done it sober," she chided, her face blurry through a haze of hangover.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes in protest of the sunlight peeking through his curtains. How had he gotten back to his room?

Mikasa sat next to him. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her temple, she turned to him and smiled. "I hope it's still an offer, though." And so, with mutual grogginess and breath smelling of booze, their lips met.

Stories of first kisses were never stellar, Eren thought, but he was sure theirs took the cake.

* * *

a/n: drunk people = run-on sentences. lots of 'em. woooo

i should really stop writing stories while i'm half-asleep and immediately posting them before it becomes a habit because then i get tired and rush the ending as demonstrated above ew i'm sorry

good night all


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